


A Family Argument

by lusilly



Series: Earth-28 [20]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Arguing, Awkward Tension, Family, Gen, Oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 21:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusilly/pseuds/lusilly
Summary: In which Jason yells at Bruce, and Tim accidentally breaks the nature of Jay and Talia's relationship to Damian.





	A Family Argument

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct, almost epilogue-like piece which takes place after Jay and Damian meet Talia in An Ordinary Boy (http://archiveofourown.org/works/12921321) BUT since it's such a pithy exchange and also a funny situation I thought it'd be fun on its own. The only context you really need is that Jay helped Damian reconnect with his mom after Many Years, and Damian got seriously injured at the hands of a rogue League of Assassins splinter cell (or so Talia claims).
> 
> Damian’s 19 here.

 

            “I don’t know how you could possibly think this was appropriate,” said Bruce, his voice hard.

            “I’m afraid I have to agree with Master Bruce on this one, Jason,” added Alfred, sipping tea from his seat at the end of the table. All the Waynes had come home to roost, gathered in the Manor kitchen. Across the old wooden table from Bruce and Dick, who had uncharacteristically spoken very little during this exchange, Jason and Damian stoically endured their lecture. Cass and Tim were in the kitchen proper, fixing lunch.

            Damian, in a neck brace Alfred had insisted he wear upon his return from Talia’s compound, leaned forwards earnestly. “It’s not his fault,” he said stubbornly. “I wanted to go.”

            “She never would have made contact with you if he hadn’t enabled it,” countered Bruce. Jason didn’t like the way Bruce said  _he_  instead of his name, felt it like a stab of accusation, that familiar unwillingness to look him in the eye. Try as he might, it was hard not to take it personally.

            Before Jay could think of a half decent retort, however, Damian shot back, “And whose fault is that?” To this, Bruce seemed to have no immediate answer. Jay glanced in between the two of them, one eyebrow cocked.

            “Listen,” said Dick, leaning his elbows on the table beside Bruce. Clearly troubled, he kept his gaze focused on Damian, trying hard to keep up his sympathetic tone. No doubt, Jay thought, trying to reconcile his long-held hatred of Talia with Damian’s newly resuscitated maternal longing. “Damian, we get it. OK? All of us had moms too, it’s not our job to tell you how to feel about her. But I just – don’t think – that it’s a smart idea to walk right into her hands, which is obvious-”

            “You’ve never liked her,” said Damian viciously. “You’ve always been biased against her, from the very start-”

            “-which is made,  _very_  clear,” Dick barreled on, ignoring Damian’s interruption, “by the fact that you got seriously hurt.”

            “That’s not her fault,” said Jason, at the same moment that Damian insisted, “ _She_  didn’t hurt me.”

            “No,” murmured Tim to Cass, under his breath. “A shadowy cabal of mutinous assassins did, apparently.”

            Chopping celery, Cass replied pointedly, “It’s…possible.”

            “Sure,” muttered Tim, glancing up at the raucous argument unfolding. “Anything’s possible when you want Mommy to be innocent  _that_  badly.”

            Jason raised his voice to ask, “You got something you wanna say, Tim?” and Tim shook his head, busying himself with toasting bread.

            As Damian leaned forward, Jay leaned back, one arm resting protectively on the back of Damian’s seat. “You should be thanking me,” he told Bruce, enjoying the obvious fury Bruce was trying his goddamn best to hold back. “If I hadn’t gotten involved, then you’d still be in the dark about what’s going down with the League of Assassins.”

            “Jay, come on,” said Dick. “We haven’t found a single corroborating source on that-”

            “Well, of course you wouldn’t,” argued Jay, “because Talia’s been suppressing internal dissent every step of the way, and I don’t know if you’re aware but she’s damn good at her job.”

            “Do you have proof?” asked Bruce bluntly.

            With venom in his voice, Damian shot back, “Nothing except for the scar on my back.”

            Alfred let out an small noise of dissatisfaction, then murmured, “Wouldn’t have scarred so terribly had she not used those horrible staples…”

            “The kid’s spine was falling out, Alfie,” said Jay, in a rare expression of anger towards the old butler. “Her medical team did what they had to do.”

            “I…like the scar,” said Cass incidentally, leaning halfway over the kitchen counter, having lost interest in the tuna salad, leaving it to Tim to finish. “It gives you…character.”

            “Thank you,” replied Damian graciously, and Jason grinned at her, then back at Bruce.

            “There you go,” he said. “Cass likes it, so therefore nobody can complain.”

            There was a tense silence, and then Bruce said: “I don’t want this happening again.”

            “Fine,” answered Jay smoothly. “If you listened to her once in a while, I wouldn’t have to take matters into my own hands.”

            “I won’t have you endangering my son, Jason.”

            “Your  _son_?” echoed Jay, his eyebrows shooting up. Immediately Dick sat up a little straighter, and it became clear Bruce knew he’d made a misstep. “Oh, right, OK. I forgot, he’s the  _real_  son.”

            “That’s not what I meant,” said Bruce lowly.

            “I actually think Jay’s got a point on this,” offered Tim, but they all ignored him.

            Damian leaned back once more in his seat, pushing Jason’s arm off the back. “Can we skip all the grandstanding about who-started-what and who belongs to whom?” he asked, sounding bored. There was a note of arrogance in his voice, casual and haughty, that reminded Jason viscerally of Talia. Judging by the expression on Bruce’s face, he wasn’t the only one. “That’s how we found ourselves in this mess to begin with.”

            “Uh, no,” said Dick, dismissing this. “We found ourselves in this to begin with because of  _her_  behavior, Damian. Because of how she treated you. You really can’t blame us for being concerned, not after what she did to you.”

            “Dick, come on,” Jay retorted. Gesturing across the table at Bruce, he asked, “How’s anything she did different than taking a twelve-year-old out on the streets as a goddamn sidekick?”

            Dangerously, Dick replied, “You  _know_  that’s not the same-”

            “The asshole put us in bright red,” he insisted, his voice rising as he spoke over Dick. “So the  _bloodstains_  wouldn’t show up.”

            “As I heard it,” said Damian, his voice low and lethal, “it was to attract gunfire, but that sounds plausible as well.”

            Bruce said nothing. He merely stared at Jason, his mouth a flat line.

            “Jay, don’t be like this,” said Dick, and there was genuine hurt in his voice. “You know her. You can’t honestly pretend it’s comparable.”

            “Sure,” agreed Jay, nodding. “Sure it’s not comparable. Talia loves that kid. She’s fucking crazy about him. You? You  _fired_  half of us, and killed at least one.”

            There was a deathly silence. Even Tim, still at work on the sandwiches, froze.

            Alfred spoke first. He quietly lowered his teacup down to its saucer, and then he said, tiredly, “Please watch your language, Jason.”

            Dick got to his feet. “Let’s take a walk,” he said, to Jay, but was interrupted by Cass arriving at the kitchen table, plonking down a plate in front of him. Tuna sandwiches and celery slathered in peanut butter were served on the fine china, the Wayne family crest embossed on each plate.

            “Lunch first,” she said. Apologetically, Tim joined her, bringing plates to the rest of the family. Once the food was served she went to the fridge, then returned with two bottles of beer. She handed one to Jay and kept the other for herself.

            Tim hoarded a big Costco-sized bag of chips on his side of the table, opposite Alfred. “Y’know,” he said mildly, breaking through the thick family tension as he grabbed a giant handful of chips from the bag. “All things considered, it _was_ kind of a stupid move, Jay. I mean, Talia has a well-established record of trying to kill men in this family she’s slept with, so your chances-”

            Immediately, simultaneously, Dick, Jason, and Bruce all barked, “ _Tim_ ,” but it was too late. Damian’s gaze snapped around, his eyes wide. Loudly, he demanded, “What?” Nostrils flaring, he looked back and forth in between Tim and Jay. “ _What?_ ”

            Distressed, Jay set his tuna sandwich back down on his plate and said, “For fuck’s sake, Tim." Cass giggled.

            Alfred reminded him, “ _Language_ , Jason.”


End file.
